That day
by Loveforthestory
Summary: "And he does not know if it is a cosmic joke, but somehow he gets her as she somehow silently seems to get him, every time right before she shoves it all, and him, out. He cares for her, enough to be here. Enough to take the risk of being rejected. He cares enough to try."
1. Part One

**This is the first part of a new story I have been working on for the past couple of weeks. This is my story for the Good Ship Charloe fic challenge. This is a story about things that will never be the same, but also a story about new things, about the past and the future. It is a story about hard moments, about darkness and light, about loss, about family and friendship, love, passion and hope. A story about gratitude.**

 **A little note: I do not own Revolution, this is fan fiction and a daydream about what could have happened too.**

* * *

That day

Part One

It is over. Everything that has been filling her mind and hands when they were around her knife and crossbow is over . The last convulsions of war are fading away around them.

It is late autumn and a late pale afternoon in the camp set up near the outskirts of a small town north east of Austin. People are gathering as they look for others who have been through what they all have been through the past year, to share this moment with on this day where they have won the war and casted away the threat of kaki for good.

People are drinking. People will be starting to believe in something else other than war. People will start to dare to believe in something else again other than fighting this war, and being hungry or cold or homesick or desperate and so tired. As booze is flowing freely with pats on backs and short knowing nods shared between men and woman who formed the group they became. Bonds formed through the war they have been through, and first slow hesitant grins are visible on faces as that slow realization is setting in.

People are starting to talk about going home.

Charlie has been drinking. But instead of grinning, or celebrating, or looking beyond war she has felt how an overpowering blank feeling is starting to wash over her. It is spreading fast. She is standing under a large tree, part of a small tree line close to the small town. She is standing close to _her_ people. Her family. Aaron and Priscilla are there, just like her mom and Miles. She watches the two men that are sharing a bottle together right behind Miles. Two men that became her family the past few months. Connor and Monroe.

Charlie lets her eyes move over her people surrounded by the sounds of men and woman drinking, eating and sharing their booze. The wind touches the leaves of the tree above her, the leaves golden but somehow pale too in the light of the cold afternoon. Charlie watches how Aaron is talking to her mom. She sees their mouths move, but she cannot follow their conversation. Because the slow overpowering blankness is being replaced by something completely else.

'You coming kiddo?' Aaron's voice is pulling her out of her own slow thoughts as he is standing across from her, a little further ahead. The sky is getting more dark and more grey, as the sun is slowly setting somewhere on the other side of that heavy pale sky . She has no idea how long she has been standing here like this, because her group around her is not drinking and talking anymore. She feels the shift going through them as their unwanted eyes focus now on her.

It is the moment the foundation of that stretching low emptiness is starting to shake under her feet. Through the cracks there is such a deep sadness creeping into her, that Charlie is not sure she can form any words.

Miles' face fills with worry, as he looks at Charlie. He is stepping away from Rachel with his right hand on the hilt of his sword as he is making eye contact with Bass for a very short moment who is now standing a little further ahead near their wagon.

'Charlie...hey..' Miles stops before Charlie, tilting his head so he can get to her level, trying to find her eyes. 'Charlie?'

Bass watches how Miles is trying to get through to Charlie. He watches them both. She has hardly spoken, she has been too damn quiet. He has kept his mouth shut about it, but hell, he had seen it. He watches how Charlie does look up, but her face is pale, her eyes clouded like autumn mist. And hell, she is a world away. And all alarm bells go of in his mind when Bass hears how Miles calls her Charlie. Not kid, not moron. _Charlie_. The last time he had seen and heard his brother do just that had been Austin.

He is preparing the horses to leave later that night, as they will all start to make their way back to Willoughby. Bass exchanges a look with Connor who is throwing their packs onto the back of the wagon. Both men share a concerned look before they look back to see Charlie who still does not move or react to her name. As Miles is starting to reach out for her cheek with the palm of his hand to try and make some contact with her.

Bass stops what he is doing, one hand on the mane of the hoarse behind him as tension builds in his jaw for the way Charlie is fading somehow again. Bass looks at Miles who is desperately trying to reach Charlie. She flinches at his attempt to reach out for her as Miles' hand tries to cup her face and his heart flinches for her and his brother.

Miles feels how Rachel walks up to him and Charlie as he feels a giant grey aching mass in his heart for Charlie in front of him, moving herself away from his hand that just wants to comfort her. Rachel is now standing next to Miles and right in front of Charlie. She has been watching Charlie with Miles as there was one moment of aching and a dark small brush of jealousy in her mother's heart as it is aching for that hurting realization, for knowing in her heart that Charlie needs Miles now more than she needs her. For realizing Miles gets her daughter now more than she ever will. Rachel feels how her mouth tightens with tension.

' Charlie..' Rachel tries. She is now standing next to Miles. She feels the small worried twitch around her own mouth as she feels how worry floods her muscles with tensed concern. She tries to reach Charlie again. 'Hey, you all right?'

She tries to get a reaction out her daughter but fails. She tries again. 'We are leaving in a couple of hours so maybe you can get your pack?' Rachel nods to the house behind them where they had spent the night. Rachel's voice is soft but still her words are razor sharp to Charlie.

And her mom's words are taking her back, all the way to a home in Chicago where her mother had told her they were going on a adventure and would leave the city. Charlie is being lifted up as her mind takes her back to that house, their home, and the girl that wanted to take her ballerina's with her.

It is right then and there, there on that late autumn afternoon on that day of pale autumn light touching trees and branches above her, that Charlie realizes it.

She is not going home. She is never going home again. There is no home. Not for her. Not anymore.

Tears are absent, the whole grey feeling of that realization is locking her in one place. And she knows all of sudden she cannot be here. She can't. But she can't go either. She can't go anywhere.

Not with them. Not when every one of her breaths hurts. Her mother's home there in Willoughby where she grew up is not _her_ home. Not when she is realizing she will never walk through those gates in Wisconsin. Not when she realizes Chicago has become a memory. Not when she is realizing her father will never be there, standing before their home with a flask in his hand. Not when Danny will not be there to joke around with.

Not when she realizes how much different she is now and how this war has shaped her. Changed her. Through the core.

Charlie finally looks to Rachel and then to Miles who is looking with a deep concern for her in his dark eyes. She sees Aaron and Priscilla, as Connor and Monroe come into focus. His blue eyes somehow standing out in a weird way, reaching her through the pale afternoon light.

Everything is different now. So she does the one thing her feet want to do now. She turns, she cannot look at any one of them now. She cannot look at her mom, Miles or Aaron. She cannot look at Connor, who is standing next to Aaron. And she cannot meet Monroe's eyes, which she feels on her now. He is there, like he has been so many times as he would be holding her eyes, longer than he should. Longer then she should. After a battle, after a fight, after he is being a crude ass. But not now, not after this.

She can't look at any of them. She can't look at him. Because she can hardly look at herself. So she turns and starts to walk to their safe house, as she does not look back. Her mind focussed on one thing. The room where her things are. The room where she will pack her crap and figure out where to go next, when home , _her home_ , is not there anymore.

* * *

Bass waits two whole long hours. Fires that have been build with wood from the forest provide warmth and light throughout camp now nightfall is close. The men and woman who he has fought with walk up to him, to talk to him with a show of respect for the man that lead them through this war. Side by side with Miles again. He talks to them, nods to them, drinks some booz that burns in the back of his throat. But his mind, his mind has been with her.

He knows she is in there, in that house he has not let out of his sight the past couple of hours. Because hell, he had not been able to do anything else.

Miles is sitting close to the porch as well. Both men are silently doing the same as they are watching out for her. For Charlie. One look at his brother and Bass knows how desperate Miles is. It is in his shoulders, in his dark eyes. They have come a long way, the both of them. He knows.

And when Bass finally cannot contain himself anymore, and as he walks to the steps of the porch of the house, there is a long wide sadness in Miles' eyes when he looks up to meet his eyes. Bass almost comes to a full stop, when he is not that far from Miles. And then, Miles nods to him. And one nod from him, one nod of understanding from his brother and Bass walks into the house.

Both men know the reason why Miles is okay with him going into the house. They had both been there, on that one day now almost two decades ago. Hell, her face, that pale lost sad face. Charlotte's face had taken him more than fifteen years back in time and into the past he shared with Miles. Her paleness and those eyes filled with harshness and a wild kind of being lost at the same time had been _his_ own eyes reflected in the mirror of a bathroom on base.

They had been ready for another drill, on a normal Wednesday morning. _It is a little after ten in the morning and Bass has just given orders to two men and has dismissed them. As he looks up he sees Miles walking towards him, from the other side of the square. There is a sound of a jet ready for take of behind the building he is standing in front of as normal on base activities are filling the clear blue sky with normal every day sounds he has come to know so well. Boots on concrete, orders being shouted._

 _Miles walks up to him and is about to say something as they are interrupted and being told that they are needed in the office of their superior. Bass shares a look with Miles as Miles' eyes go a bit darker and both men share the same question in their eyes. The walk to the office is spent with neither of them speaking. They do not have to, to understand that there is something going on. Bass adjusts his hair right before they are being told to come in, his hand going through his curls as Miles goes in first._

 _The moment they walk into that room is the moment that normal Wednesday morning stops being just a normal Wednesday morning._

 _There is a desk, there are two chairs in front of it. There is Miles close to him when there is the news. The news that makes his eyes go wide, and his mouth that falls open in shock and there is a harsh breathe and a hoarse no rolling from the back of his throat. His mom, his dad, his beautiful little sisters. They are all gone now._

 _He hears Miles talk about a flight back home. Or whatever there is left of home. Miles walks him back to their room through hollow hallways that feel desolated now and not like the hallways he has spent year in..Miles is grabbing their crap as Bass sits on the bed, staring. Right before they leave he stands in the small empty bathroom. Hollowness is ripping him apart from the inside slowly._

 _He stands there, in front of that mirror in that hollow bath room. He looks into his own eyes as he locks his jaws with grieve._

 _Miles knocks on the door before he opens it. His voice is hoarse but strong and filled with support at the same time. 'Bass, ..we have to go.' Bass looks up at his friend who is now standing in the doorway. He just nods and follows Miles without questions._

 _Miles throws both their bags over his shoulder. Both men are walking shoulder to shoulder as they make their way of base when they start a torturous long trip back to Jasper. Back to a home that would never be home again. Not now, not ever, not now his family wasn't there anymore._

Bass walks up the stairs of the silent safe house with that memory in every step of his boots on the wood of the stairs. And he sees her face, before him, over and over again. And he feels it all the way to his bones. Charlie is him, him on that day in that bathroom.

And he does not know if it is one fucking hell of a cosmic joke, but somehow he gets her as she somehow silently seems to get him, every time right before she shoves it all _and him_ , out. He cares for her, enough to be here. Enough to take the risk of being rejected. He cares enough to try.

He stops before the door of the room she has spent the night in and takes a deep breath that sounds like agony, right before he knocks on that door just like Miles had knocked on that bathroom door, a fucking lifetime ago.

She does not answer and the door is half open. His boots hit the wooden floor of the dark room as that sound is the only sound that breaks the silence in the room. Bass finds her sagged on the damn floor, with her back against the side of a bed. Curled up with her knees close to her chest, her arms on her knees. Staring blankly into the dark of the room before her.

He feels dread and fear for feeling every fucking thing himself he has tried to push out that walks into the room with him. There is a slow breathe released from his chest as he looks to the floor and then back to her.

'Dammit.' It is silent but still it is rolling of his lips.

He has called her Mini Miles, he has been blown away with how much Miles is within her. But here is the thing, that one thing he has never shared with her. She is so much of Ben too. There in stubborn warmth and kindness when she wants to show it. But most of all, and this is Ben and all of him, she knows how to give second chances. It is what locked her straight under his damn skin.

And things between them have been intense from the very start, but somehow it always comes back to this. Him not being able to look away from her. Fighting together, pushing each other's buttons as no other can. They push the other away when the other comes too fucking close, in every way they can.

But here, today, it is him and her again, in one room. His heart fucking breaking into raw pieces for her. Bass slowly walks to where she is huddled against the bed and slowly crouches down before her.

His right hand is leaning against the mattress behind her. He expects her to lash out. But she doesn't. She is quiet. Too fucking quiet. Hell, he would give anything to get some Matheson sarcasm out of her now or that raise of her eyebrow or her telling him he is delusional.

But he knows it is not going to happen. He knows which place holds her heart prisoner. It scares him to death. But he stays put as she just sits there. Dried up tears on the skin of her cheeks. Harsh lines in her face.

He is close enough to hear him breathe. He is close enough to hear the leather of his jacket as he readjusts his weight to his other boot, crouched down before her. He is tall and wide next to her. Charlie cannot look up. She just can't.

She had started to shove all her things into her pack before she had realized she had absolutely no idea where to go or what her next move had to be. Her body had gradually felt too heavy for that thought. She had slowly moved to the floor and let the side of the bed keep her in one place, her back against it as she had let time pass by until heavy boots on the steps behind her had brought her back to the room.

One of his boots on the steps in the hallway and she had known it was him. She had heard him curse. She had heard him release that long aching breathe the way only Monroe could.

If she would look up now she knows she would see that jaw lock that is so much him. But that would mean that his eyes would not be far. And she can't. Charlie cannot look up. She just can't.

Bass swallows, his throat heavy and filled with worry and dread and hurt for her. He slowly starts to move his arm, the sound of leather moving from the sleeve of his black leather jacket locked between them.

His hand find its way towards her temple, as the palm of his hand moves softly against her temple and over her hair. The rough skin of his fingertips slide into her hair as the skin of her cheek connects with his hand.

She does not move. She does not pull back. She does not talk. He finally has enough fucking courage to touch her and he won't let go. Not anymore. He sits close to her and lets her be, close to him.

Charlie closes her eyes. She feels the slow comfort of his hand around the side of her face. The palm of his hand is brushing and is now cupping her temple and cheek. Warm, steady, wide.

She swallows, as tears still won't come. A strange sense of calm does. She realizes this is Monroe, with her here. She knows he should not be able to ground her like he is doing. He really shouldn't. It is something that has been keeping her company on the road, day after day. That question of why. The thought of all the things he should not do for her. All the man he should not be for her.

When Bass sees how she opens her eyes he waits. Bass slowly brushes her hair with his fingers moving with a weird sense of gentle through it. Charlie tilts her head towards his eyes when she finally has enough strength to meet his eyes. They are warm somehow. Deep and blue and so much of him.

'I...' She starts. Bass slowly moves his hand , brushing a lock of hair over her shoulder. He watches how her mind tries to find the words that are forming in her eyes. Her lips moving to search for how she is going to say what she needs to tell. She does not look away from him. 'I don't know what to do...I don't know how to explain this to them. To my mom or Miles, or Aaron. 'I can't go back...'

Charlie feels how Monroe brushes her hair gently, as she wonders how such a small gesture can contain so much.

'You do what you need to do.' Bass voice's is gruff and low but with a warmth in it that is new to Charlie.

She blinks and looks.

'I ...I just...' Charlie sighs and struggles to keep on talking.

'You what?' His low voice is so close Charlie can feel his breathe and his voice inside of her chest. She licks her bottom lip as she looks away from him for just a second as she finds the need of the truth come to the surface of finally telling him.

'I do not want to get out there, on my own...' she looks up at him and her eyes meet his. 'Not like I did then.'

Bass watches how her whole face drops. He knows. He knows because she had found him after the Tower, all alone. Hurt, pissed and so very lonely. But he lets her be, he lets her talk. He just keeps his mouth shut as his heart is pounding in his chest.

And there is another tone in her words, stronger and more like herself, shining through.

'I can't just leave again and take the risks I took when I was on the road all by myself. Not like then...I do not want to be out there again, walking, putting myself in danger again, not after what you did for me there in that bar. Not after everything you did for me. Not after all those days on the road together. Not after everything we have been through.'

This time her voice trembles when warm salty tears break free. 'Not after you saved my life that day.'

Bass freezes, she can feel it. She can see his face harden, his jaw locking even more as he presses his lips together. But she can see his eyes soften. Charlie can see the effect from her words reflecting in his eyes.

And there, between all the blank questions of where to go next, there _is_ something she does feel. There is something she knows for sure. Here in this dark room, with him so close. Here with her back against the hard wood of a bed, here sagged onto the floor. With Monroe there. Here, she finally knows for sure, that he is more than the killer she once saw in him. He is more than that hardened man she met once.

She knows she was not wrong, that moment on that she had already started to realize that once, that day she had saved his life. In Willoughby, in New Vegas. She was not wrong to believe in him. To believe in Bass. Her heart had not been wrong, buried under layers of rage and hate.

'Thank you.' Her voice is filled with Charlie's strength, although her voice is softer and low.

This time she sees tears pool in his wide blue eyes as he jerks his head downwards and looks away from her.

Three fucking words. Three fucking words and Bass feels how salty tears are ambushing him. He swallows the salt away from the back of his throat. He can only nod, unable to do anything else. Inhaling the tears as he takes a breathe in.

They just sit, and when he finally has the balls to loop up again, she is there. All of her. Real, aching, hurting. Searching for him with her eyes. Really being there with him, Thanking him. Bass can only feel what the hell she is doing to him, as he is not sure he could think of any words that would match what she has just given him.

They lock eyes and she just sits there with him. He slowly moves close to her, his back now against the side of the bed too, both of them sharing a floor. His leather jacket brushing hers. Time moves on, as the sounds of the camp right outside the house fill the room.

'I could ask Blanchard if there is some kind of mission you could join. I am sure they can use every good solid help they can get now, rebuilding Texas.'

Charlie looks at him, as she feels the meaning behind his words. She would be on the road, she would contribute to rebuilding lives after the war, she would have aim and purpose and she would not roam around the plains aimlessly this time.

And she would not be alone.

'You don't have to do that.' Her voice is stronger again as she thinks about his offer.

'I know, Charlotte.'

It takes her a long time and then she knows, that her things near her bag on the bed behind her have a new purpose. She will take his offer. She will go.

'All right.' She nods.

Bass just nods back. He knows this means he will have to watch her walk away after all those months they had spent together on the road.

Her golden honey locks flying through the air as she fires that crossbow of hers. That smart ass mouth of her. Her asleep close to him or Miles near a fire, when he would keep an eye on her when it was his watch. Her joking around with Aaron and Connor on a rare moment of whiskey and some time alone on a very late night. Watching his brother's eyes on her with pride and love for her, knowing how fucking much Miles cares for her.

He watches her as she is sitting so damn close. He knows he will have to let her go. But she needs this, he can taste it. So, _for now,_ he lets her go. And he just has to hope, and he almost huffs at that stupid as fuck concept in this blackout world, that her strength and her will and her stubborn loyalty to family will bring her back to all of them. To him.

When she pushes herself of the floor as Bass gets up himself, she finds herself close to him, near the doorway.

Bass watches her, right at that moment she is there with him and he has the woman that became so fucking much, someone to fight this damn fight with day after day, but hell, even more, to himself.

'I know this is hard okay, I know...' He surprises her with his warm low voice, it is so raw and open Charlie feels her breathe accelerate in her chest as she looks up at him as they are both standing close to the other. 'But we will be there...there for you to come back to.'

What he is offering her makes her lips part in solid warm shock and realization, as she can only look at him. She leans into his tall strength, just for a second as his lips hover close to her ear and hair. She feels how he is taking her in, her, her scent, her hair, all of her on one deep breath in.

She lets him as she does the same and the leather of his jacket and his sweat and skin and jaw line and scruff is so close. Her forehead almost brushes his chest as a goodbye for now, as she stands there in the circle of his arms and before a tall wide chest that is the man that now stands before her.

He has just offered her something, someone to come back to. All of them, including him. She had not been sure about him, about where he would go. But know, she knows he will be there. With Aaron, Connor, Miles, everyone. They will be there as a gentle solid place to come back to.

They stand there , near that doorway, in the dark, just enough light to lock eyes as Bass takes in the scent of her skin.

She moves her lips closer to his ear, as she looks up and he looks at her. Her voice is hoarse but somehow, with him, right now, she does not mind to show a piece of her she has never showed before to him.

'Take care of Miles for me, all right?'

She moves her crossbow over her shoulder, just like her bag. She does not have to wait to hear his answer, because his answer is already in his eyes, as they lock eyes one more time.

* * *

 **Author's Note I am working on Part Two and I hope to publish that one later this week because this week, I want to focus completey on this autumn story of gratitude, and writing with lots of coffee as autumn sunshine has arrived here! Love from Love**


	2. Part two

**So, I know I said this would be a story in three parts. But there is just so much story to tell, that I have decided I will write a couple of more chapters, to give Charlie and Bass more scenes and story and to give each part of the story more space. Today, it is time for part two , as it is one year later..**

* * *

That day,

Part Two

One year later

Aaron is looking at the door of the small bar in the heart of Willoughby. He has done this every five minutes for the past two hours since his birthday party had started earlier this evening.

There is an unopened bottle of whiskey right behind the bar. And as far as Aaron is concerned, it stays unopened. Nobody is touching that bottle. Not until she gets here. That girl that stole a part of his heart the moment he had met her, that day late summer when she had looked up with more life he had seen in somebody's eyes for a very long time.

Charlie. She has been out there for months. Months had turned into a year. An occasional rare letter from her and her group of Rangers travelling through Texas had arrived. Her handwriting had been there on the paper in front of him, but with so little information. It had been barely a sign she was still alive. But she had been. She is alive. Months had turned into a year, bringing them all to another autumn.

Aaron's eyes go to the door once more when he is talking to some friends he made in town. He has settled down with Priscilla in a small home not far from Rachel en Miles. And today, today is his fortieth birthday and they, Charlie and him, had once made plans for that party a long time ago when this day had seemed so far away. That day where he would turn forty and she would turn twenty five.

Charlie, the girl in pig tails he had watched growing up as this girl had included her in a family in a force that still made his heart warm as she had moved her stubborn loving way into his heart. He knows it is a long shot, wishing for her to show up tonight. She was hurting so very, very much that day they said goodbye to her last year in autumn, when they had to let her go and she had to find her way out there and hopefully, one day, back to them.

But she is still Charlie. And Charlie is too stubborn not to keep a promise. And there is little hope, but it is still there, hope that that girl from before remembered their wild plans for this evening. For their birthdays crammed into one night. The both of them, and that bottle of whiskey.

People are chatting, drinking, laughing. Sharing stories as half of Willoughby has stopped by to congratulate him. Even the Monroe's have showed up and both Connor and Monroe himself are having a drink at the bar. Aaron has a glass in his own hand and he is chatting casually when he sees Priscilla laughing at him from the other side of the room.

And that one moment, that one moment Aaron loses sight of the door as he answers a question from a friend, that one moment Aaron forgets to look for her there in that doorway and he laughs at some joke that is being told, he feels it.

And then, there, that one second he let the doors out of his sight , she appears between the people in the crowd. Aaron takes a deep breath in, in shocked relieved surprise as tears start to ambush him. There she is, a small smile playing around her lips. Long blonde curls, clear blue eyes, tanned skin, jeans, top, jacket. Strong stubborn shoulders and that dimple that is slowly moving right to her mouth. That dimple that all of them had feared never to see again.

Aaron feels how his eyes fill with tears. Miles frowns at him as he walks to Aaron and he just about to ask what in the hell is going on with a healthy dose of Matheson sarcasm. Bass is about to find a snarky line in his mind for Staypuft who is all tearing up at something as he is sharing a drink with Connor. Rachel is on her way to Miles as Priscilla is deep in conversation with friends but her eyes find her husband's as she stops mid story to look at Aaron.

'Aaron..what in the hell is going on?' Miles asks, a bottle in his hand, not bothering with glasses tonight.

But Aaron cannot talk. He just locks eyes with her as tears overwhelm him. 'Charlie...' his voice is barely a whisper.

He cannot move, he cannot talk. So, because this is still Charlie, she takes a step towards him. And then another.

She is close when he is finally able to speak, the whole bar has stopped what they are doing as it is silent now. Aaron's voice is hoarse. 'I knew you would come back.'

Charlie hears a voice she has not heard in so long, a voice that is a part of what home somehow became. She swallows and smiles through stubborn tears. She feels how her tears are close too, but the smile wins. Aaron opens his arms for her as Charlie moves into his embrace.

'Hey...' Charlie returns his hug with little words, because they are not needed right now.

And then, as Aaron steps back, she looks right in the face that belongs to another man that has been on her mind so, so much. His face is tensed, but tears are moving into his eyes as well.

'Miles..' She cannot finish what she is about to say because Miles pulls her close. For one moment she is buried in his arms and pressed to his chest, as she takes in the scent that is Miles, whiskey and fight, her uncle, home. Charlie feels how he cups her head and she just lets him hold her up for the both of them.

Neither of them speak, Miles just holds his niece, who is such a big part of himself.

Her mother steps in and although the embrace between mother and daughter is short, the love is there. Rachel feels the shocked surprise of Charlie letting her close like this, as she barely dares to hold on to her child for too long. She soaks up every second of her daughter being back.

'Hi mom...' Charlie nods to Rachel. Rachel smiles back shortly.

It is Connor who gets her out of that moment before Charlie can feel everything that is still there and unfinished between her and her mom. She is grateful for dark curls and easy gentle eyes that appear in front of her.

'Charlie, good to see you again.' Connor says with a low voice and a gentleness for her in his eyes. She feels large arms being wrapped around her as she feels the metal of his ring in her hair when he brushes her hair. She holds on to him as well, getting reacquainted with the people she has lived her life without for the past months. She had been scared of this moment, but they are all making this so easy for her.

Connor holds her and as he takes a step back there is the sound of giggling girls walking passed them. 'Well,' he tilts his head in his own cocky way as his eyes smile at her, 'Glad to see you are back, Charlie. But I am afraid I have a very busy evening.' He nods to the girls that have now walked passed the bar.

Charlie smiles and nods, telling him to get the hell out and enjoy himself. And then, it is her and one more man to greet. Monroe. There. Before a bar. They lock eyes and she feels him, close, for the very first time. His intensity in his eyes burns right through her.

She has thought about everybody, out there on the road. But she has also thought about him. Many times. She sighs as a smile breaks through.

'Come on...' She says with a strong no bullshit voice, as she smiles, taking a step towards Bass, 'Might as well finish all this hugging mushy crap.'

The direct quote from Miles is making Bass chuckle. But then, hell, she is there. So fucking close, too damn close.

Charlie is about to roll her eyes at him, at the _big badass and known for all the ladies_ Monroe, and the way he flinches when she is about to hug him.

Bass heart is almost beating out of his chest, as she is there, inside his arms, against his chest, her hair, her scent, everything he did not know he missed so fucking much as he answers to her embrace with a fast embrace on his own.

Charlie feels his hesitation. But then his hands wrap themselves around her. One on her shoulder blades, the other close to her neck and her. And there is nothing more to toll her eyes about. He is all there, tall, all him, all strength and muscles and leather jacket. It is real, and she breathes him in without being able to stop herself.

When she takes a step back, the rest of the bar has faded for a moment. His eyes are there, just like his scent on her skin and in her hair. She has not got long to think about everything she finds in there, in those eyes, because Aaron is close.

'What do you think about opening that bottle, kiddo?'

She still feels Monroe's eyes on her face as she is smiling, tearing her eyes away from his before she turns to Aaron and the rest of the group around her. And as Aaron reaches for the bottle behind the bar, her heart fills with endearment for him, for remembering their birthday plans. His fortieth, her twenty fifth, and that one bottle.

She pushes everything else out, the last year, what will happen after this night. Because she is here. With him. With them. She smiles at Aaron, a true honest smile that capture both Monroe and Miles as well as both men are standing close to her and neither of them seem to want to part with her anymore.

Charlie smiles at Aaron. 'I think, we should really do that.' The small smile is now turning into an honest and large smirk around her lips.

* * *

'I am pretty sure the bar is that way.' Bass grunts lowly. He feels damn uncomfortable all of sudden now she is standing in front of him all of sudden outside the small bar.

He needed some fucking air so after borrowing some of the whiskey inside, including staypuft's flask, he had backed out of the bar and found a bit of solitude under the night sky to drink and not think of her. Which he was very much sucking at right now. The last part, not the drinking part. He always managed to make it through the drinking part.

As on cue, Charlotte walks towards him, step by step closing the distance between them. He does not know where the hell she is coming from all of a sudden, but she somehow always manage to do just that.

Charlie raises her eyebrow in amusement at his low gruff voice and words. Before, she would have thought he was just being his arrogant cruel self. But she knows him better now, better than that time before.

And she knows he is an ass because he is unsure. She can see it in the way he looks everywhere before he finally looks at her. At the way he adjusts his jacket and then does the whole I am full of myself thing with pressing his lips together as he tries to outstare her.

'Yeah, I am aware of that.' She smirks. 'Matheson DNA.'

She looks at the flask in his hand. It is Aarons. 'You know, I am pretty sure the party and more where that came from is inside that bar ?' She asks him with that firm teasing tone in her voice.

'Yeah, look at that...the Monroe's invited for Staypuft's birthday.' He spreads his arms and makes a mocking nonchalant toasting gesture with the flask still in his hand.

Monroe might go for the whole nonchalance approach but Charlie hears it, the insecurity in his voice. She realizes it could be part of the reason why he is out here.

'Hey, Aaron is good guy, he would not have invited you if you were not welcome.' This time, there is no teasing in her voice. She is serious.

And fucking hell, Bass curses silently inside of his own mind. She is killing him within five whole minutes of her being back in this town. Charlie is skilled at a lot of things, and doing just that, is one of them.

He does not look away from her as something lighter moves into his eyes. He offers her the flask with a grin forming in the lines around his eyes. She accepts.

'So, what brings you to this fine alley tonight?' Bass asks when she takes a sip, ignoring those lips of her around that flask.

He already feels something in his gut the way her eyes light up. That grin, that smile around her eyes means trouble, he knows enough about Charlotte to know just that.

'I am here to finish something...' Charlie smiles that wide grin of hers that makes him weak in the damn knees. And he is still that General, he is still Bass Monroe. He does not do weak in the knees. He is good, very good at delivering weak in the knees.

And there, as her eyes go from Matheson grinning to Charlie warmth, he knows. He know that Charlie has not forgotten about anything. Not about every fucking thing that has happened between them. One that day, that autumn one fucking year ago.

Not about that moment in that safe house before she got on the road herself, where it was him and her upstairs in the dark after he found her sagged against that bed on the damn floor. Not about that moment in the shadows of the night inside, in that doorway, her forehead so close to his chest.

He think she is about to return the flask as she steps closer. But she doesn't. She doesn't stop moving closer to him either. There is not time to curse out loud as she lifts herself on her toes, tilting her head to to meet him in the middle as he cannot help but find her mouth and respond to the pressure of her lips on his.

They connect, slowly. Their breath warm between them as Bass pulls her close to him with a simple touch of his hand on her lower back. Warmth of their breaths moves between the kiss that gets wetter on their lips as his moustache brushes her lips and the sensitive skin around it. She tastes him. Their chests close, their lips connected, hands and arms not sure to follow. But he is warmth and whiskey as Bass takes her mouth with his.

And then, they hear the sound of drunken people singing some almost forgotten song out of tune and Bass pulls away abruptly.

He feels and sees the shift in Charlie. They are both out of breathe as they look at each other. And then Bass pulls his hand over his face. Charlie lips her bottom lips, tasting herself, Monroe and his whiskey.

Charlie steps away from him as the door of the bars opens and they know they have to get back.

He forces himself to look into her eyes. 'I got to go...' His voice is low and too rough, as he curses at himself for pulling away from her so suddenly.

Before Charlie can sense and understand what is happening, he has told her he has to go. She knows she should be pissed. But this is him, this is her, nothing is easy, and everything is swirling under the surface. She understands. He tells her he has to go, for now. But then , his eyes tell a completely other story.

She sees the struggle and before she can even open her mouth or get pissed or even decide what she is feeling he is close to her again.

His mouth and breath close enough she can feel it against her ear and neck. 'Good to see you, Charlotte.'

And it is the way his voice is low and gentle at the same time. It is the way his breath is warmth and hotness all in one, and it is the way he is saying her full name with a tease and care in it all wrapped up in one, that makes it impossible for her to get pissed at him. Or forget about that kiss or wanting to taste more. Or knowing he will come back for her, the moment he walks out of the alley.

* * *

 **Author's Note Since the first part of this story was very intense and filled with sadness ( but also filled with comfort and understanding from Bass for Charlie) I really wanted to make this part about Charlie coming back and coming home to all of them. A turning point in the story for her. Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate your kudo's, follows or reviews so very much. Thank you! Love from Love**


	3. Part Three

That day

Part Three

With Charlie's taste still on his damn lips, Bass had walked back into the bar and found himself a spot at the deep brown wooden bar. He adjusts his leather jacket as he feels tension in his damn jaws and shoulders for so much of her so fucking close again. He growls to Joe at the other side of the bar for another drink and with his glass in hand, he lets the booze swirl in his glass.

He watches how Staypuft is talking to some friends. He watches his kid using the Monroe charm as the girls are gathering around him like a herd of damn gazelles.

But he tastes _her_ through his whiskey. Her taste, the firm pressure of her lips, her breath, her so fucking close to his chest. He lets out a deep low involuntary sigh as he drinks his whiskey with the slow burning shock of her showing up tonight. He remembers Staypuft's hoarse voice as he had seen her first and the low fire in his brother's eyes when Miles pressed Charlie to his chest. He needs a fucking moment here.

He remembers those first days on the road without her, last year when one grey autumn day moved into the next. He remembers how he was unable to meet Miles' eyes for long, because they were already both missing the hell out of her, even when she was only three days out there. There was no smart mouth, no sarcasm, no sleeping form somewhere between him and Miles near a fire. There was no one fighting with him the way she and Miles only could. There were no blue eyes to find across camp.

Days turned into weeks. They had returned to Willoughby. They had settled down. There were meetings with Blanchard. And as Miles started playing house with Rachel in the old porter residence, he had started to focus on Connor. It had not been easy, both men had their battles to fight, on their own and together.

But somehow time had landed their asses at the other side of winter and he had found himself spending more and more time with his kid. Building some kind of life. But without her.

Miles had already made some comments about the absence of woman at his side or bed. Bass had growled at him to mind his own damn business. They had gotten into a quite juvenile conversation where Miles had said something about his age and being fucking old and he had snarled something about who is calling who old back and what time Rachel was expecting him back for dinner.

It was better than letting see Miles the truth. A truth that could have something to do with a woman on his mind that just would not move the hell out his thoughts.

And then, finally, at the end of may, a letter had arrived. Hers. He already knew she was alive. His connections with Walnut himself gave him access to a lot of information, it was just a matter of putting enough pressure on the right people. He had already known she had been alive, he had even known where she had been, when reports of her group of Rangers had started to come in.

But it had been impersonal,. It had been reports, like he had so many once on his damn desk in Philly. She moved back into that place where she was another name in another report on a desk.

He did not wanted status updates from Charlie Matheson, he craved to hear from Charlie. And when he had found staypuft and Miles around one damn piece of paper, he had to swallow. He had to swallow even harder when both Miles and staypuft had included him, and had let him read the letter. It had been short, but it had been her.

And now, she had walked into their lives again. She looked different, different than the Charlie he met in that room in Philly. Different than the spiking hate and loathing and rage that was all her when he met her again in an empty pool in that forest. Different than the Charlie he got to know in the months after that.

One look, one look into her eyes and he had known. She looked more steady, she looked stronger. She looked more like herself somehow. He lets the whiskey burn in his throat as he thinks about her eyes, her face, that smirk, her fucking smile aimed at him, her in his arms, her fucking lips on his. They keep on bombarding through his mind as he sits there at his spot at that bar.

* * *

Charlie had not stayed long at Aaron's party. They had opened that bottle of whiskey and when Aaron toasted to her and their birthday's there had been a silent but very palpable thought lingering between them. A thought of those people they had to leave behind in time, people who still were theirs to carry with them and remember. Ben, Danny. Maggie and Nora, people they both had vowed never to let fade in time. Aaron had nodded and she had returned that nod with as they shared their birthday whiskey.

She had talked to people but the overload of being back and old and new mingling in the air of the bar had been washing over her. She was never not aware of where he was, she was never not aware of when Bass' eyes brushed her back.

At the end of the night, Miles had asked her if she had already brought her crap to the house. She had thanked him with a soft smile for her uncle showing so much care this night. But then she had declined. She had not missed the look in Miles' eyes when she had been clear without not being kind.

A solution for where she would stay was quickly found as Aaron knew an apartment close to the centre of the town that was currently not being uses, where she could stay and figure out where to go next. Aaron had stood next to her as she had declined the offer from Miles, but Charlie was thankful for his quick help without questions. Priscilla had walked over to say goodnight after Connor hugged her again and squeezed her shoulder quickly with a friendly grin. Charlie had no idea if Bass was still in the bar, but she had not seen him anymore.

She had ignored Rachel's eyes when she told her mother and Miles goodnight. She knew her mother meant well, but if this was ever going to work, if they would ever find some kind of flow where things could relax between them, it had to be with her in her own place, in every meaning of that word.

The apartment had been dark when she had arrived. Of course both Miles and Aaron had insisted to help her with building a fire. She had smirked in amusement but had let them, as both slightly drunk men started to make a fire in the small but friendly and most importantly, working, fire place.

And now, it is a Texan night slowly on its way to sunrise, when the temperatures are dropping and Charlie tosses and turns in her bed. She turns on her belly as she adjusts the blanket. Knowing that they, her people, are so close, out there. _He_ is close, out there.

The year on the road had given her purpose. Something to do. Rhythm. Bass had kept his word and made sure she worked with the best team that was sent out there and into Texas by Blanchard himself. Within three days she had known she worked with skilled man and woman who took their jobs, and her, very serious. She became a valued member of their team.

These were the people that knew war and there was a silent agreement on working together, looking out for the other and giving the other space or time to be pissed or have days from hell without pressure to be anything else. They helped with rebuilding towns, as they brought back some kind or order in their time on the road. They focussed on clean water, food for everyone, health care, sending doctors to towns, making sure feeling safe would start to grow inside the children and man and woman in the towns they had visited.

And the strength of the land and most importantly the people in it trying to rebuild their lives had flowed into her. Their gratitude for the work of the team she was part of, filling her with something else other than emptiness and loss.

It is still there, all of it, one autumn later. The loss, the grieve, the longing and yearning for some things that will never be. But now, there is more. That void had been slowly filled with new things, other things, things that connected inside of her.

She has filled herself with being needed, with feeling she was making a difference, with belonging to a group of hard working men and woman who gave aid where it was needed. She drank. She slept. She did not sleep. She drank some more. She had nightmares. She had bad days, she had impossible days.

Long winter days where she had known she should write a letter and send it to Willoughby. Days in spring where she could finally feel the warmth of the sun on her skin again. That first warm day right before summer where she had found the courage to write to Miles, in a letter meant for all of them. Thinking about each and every one of them, including _him_ , including those blue eyes and dark blonde curls that would get to see this letter.

And then, when there was a first brush of autumn suddenly in the air, she had a drink in a bar, two hundred miles from Austin. Her muscles held the good kind of sore that came from hard satisfying work. And she had met one woman, there in a small bar in that small town.

They had shared a bottle, made friendly conversation about their day, their unit, their work. Until the conversation had gradually shifted into more personal territory. It had happened slowly, without feeling she was pushed into corners of her mind and heart she was not willing to visit.

And Charlie had let her eyes wonder over the necklace the woman on her right, early forties, dark brown hair, bright dark eyes and strong shoulders in an easy flowing leather jacket, had been wearing.

' _It's okay?' Vicky takes another sip of her glass as she nods to Charlie. Her voice is, like her kind and strong at the same time, 'You can ask.'_

 _Charlie looks at her, her glass in her hand too. Her elbow on the bar. Both woman hold each other's eyes for a moment as Vicki's mouth turns into a soft smile with a memory forming in her eyes._

' _It belonged to my grandmother, I always kept it with me.'_

 _Charlie smiles. The strong love in Vicki's voice gives her no other choice. She remembers her own grandmother, the woman she was named after. It leads her straight back to her other family. To other people. Waiting out there._

 _Vicki looks at Charlie with a knowing smile, as one woman gives the other woman her space._

' _So, what's next for you?' Charlie asks, knowing that tomorrow, they are being send back to Austin and their mission is completed._

' _Not sure yet, but I think about visiting some old friends up north. From there, I will see what's next and where my feet take me.' Vicky takes another sip from her drink. 'Maybe I will find myself a good man to spend some time with.'_

 _Charlie grins against her glass._

 _Vicky smiles to Charlie, her face lighting up at that part of her plan. She looks at the younger woman on her left. 'You?'_

 _Charlie licks her bottom lip. The hesitation and what is happening in her heart right now is shining through in her voice. 'I am not sure.'_

 _Vicki finishes her glass as she nods to Charlie, a warm strength in her eyes, her voice serious._

' _You know, at the end of the day it is all about what you choose, what you want out of this life. Your life, your rules.' She winks at Charlie as both woman are silent for a while._

 _Vicky pays for both their drinks, even when Charlie is protesting. She gets up from her place at the bar. Charlie is about to wish her goodnight. But then she turns to Charlie._

' _So, who is he?'_

 _Charlie looks at the other woman as she feels something warm wash over her cheeks and inside her chest. Vicki does not look away, that one look in Charlie's eyes earlier has told her enough. She nods with a smile. 'I know men can be a mess. But some of them, are worth the trouble.'_

 _Before Vicki walks out of the bar to walk back to her tent, she turns and looks at Charlie. 'Remember, your life, your rules.'_

One day later, when she had said goodbye to Vicki who got on her horse with a knowing smile when they were about to move out, Charlie had known what she had wanted. What she needed. What her choice would be. And who would be in that choice for what was next. It was time to go to back.

And now, she is back. Charlie moves her pillow, readjusting it when the memory fades and she realizes she is back. Really back. With Aaron, his beard tickling her hair. With her mom and Miles, who is still all whiskey and warmth when he sees her, and his wall of sarcasm and keeping people at the distance tumbles down for just one moment. With her mom. With Connor. And with him.

Their faces and the sense of being back is swirling through her mind when there is a late night nock on her door. She moves out of her bed, as she is wearing a black cotton dress that follows the lines of her breasts and hips, stopping right above her knee.

One small sound, the sound of him shifting his weight to his other knee and she knows. She closes her eyes, as she takes a deep breath. He is here. Her fingers move over the doorknob as she slowly opens the door.

'Hey,' Her voice is a bit hoarse from the whiskey and sleep she did not get yet.

'Hey,' His voice is low and husky as the greeting is rolling of his lips. Fuck, she looks beautiful. All legs under one tiny black dress, her hair flowing so easily over her shoulders as he has to control his eyes not to shoot straight to the flow of her breasts so close under that fabric.

'What are you doing here, Bass?' The whiskey and him so very tall and with intense eyes on her, right in front of her make his name roll of her lips without even having to think about it. Charlie does not miss that soft almost proud but definitely ego filled smirk under his moustache.

'I am here to finish something Charlotte.' And then, before she can think or protest or do anything else, Bass steps inside as he shuts the door with his boot.

Bass is not sure what he feels first. His hard on raging in his pant for knowing what the hell will be next, the pressure of her tits against his leather jacket or the fact that he has a handful of Charlie's ass and thighs in his god damn hands.

And before she can say something snarky or insulting or something else that is so Matheson like, he pulls her close , one hand around her thigh and her ass to lift her in the air so he has all of her exactly where the hell he wants her, all of her against his body.

He has so many fucking questions and so many things he needs her to hear that he almost went fucking insane within the four walls of his own apartment he went home too after he left her there at the party. But she is so much like Miles. She is not ready to talk. He fucking knows. And he never wants to push her, he never has, he has always been there for her silently. Caring for her, fighting for her. If she wanted him there or not.

So he does not ask, he does not tell her. He shows her. There has been enough fucking stares and insults and her doing one thing as she told him the complete fucking opposite with her actions ans eyes. Saving his ass, defending him. He had enough. He needs her, all of her.

Charlie feels the easy by which he is moving her through her room. And this is Bass, so of course he finds her bed within one whole god damn minute. It is infuriating. It is slowly turning her into liquid, warm liquid between her thighs.

She shuts everything out. She sucks on his neck as both his hands are now around the curves of her ass. He growls impatiently as she kisses the sensitive skin of his neck, close to her collarbone. She kisses his neck, making a wet trail of mouth and tongue all the way to his scruff. Her lips move over his moustache and then he yanks her closer. His hands push her closer to his body as her bare legs are wrapped around him. He presses her even closer to him, angling his thighs, shoving his cock hard against her panties.

Charlie moans as he makes contact, feeling everything this moment is doing to him to. He plays with the fabric of her dress in an agonizing slow way. His strong large fingers move the fabric up as his hands disappears with torturous speed to her panties. She feels his whole body tense with lust and need for her, as he slows down the kiss that makes her pant into his mouth. Another moan escapes her lips.

Bass grins against her mouth, as they both challenge the other in this kiss. But then, she fastens the pace of her tongue. Her lips crush his. There is something too strong and too eager in her movements in the way she is pushing herself against him.

Bass moves one of his hands to her thigh and her side and slowly makes a trail to her collarbone. He knows what she is afraid of. He knows what she fears. A quick fuck is about release. But this, this is quickly escalating into something else. Not because what is happening right here in this room, but because of what lays behind them in time.

Charlie feels the spike of a fight inside of her. A fast night with someone she barely knows is one thing. But giving yourself to the one person that has gotten under your skin and who can look straight through you when he looks at you, that is what is slowly bringing her down her knees here. It feels like diving into another fight, with no back up, with no one covering her.

Bass catches her, as he holds her against his chest, her legs still around his middle. He cups her face with one large hand as he knows what that flash in her eyes is. He know what this is like. It leaves her exposed as hell. He fucking knows. After the mess that was Philly, he really does.

Charlie is breathing harshly as Bass pulls away his mouth from hers. Bass has his wide strong hands soothing and steadily placed on her back, waiting for her until she looks at him so she knows he is here and completely here, with her.

He waits, waits until she is ready, as she is still in his damn arms. And finally, he finds Charlie's eyes, willing and ready to meet his.

Bass voice is low and just above a whisper. He kisses her again and then his lips are so close to her ear as these words are only for her.

'Don't worry, we have all night...I am not going anywhere Charlotte.'

And then, when his words are crashing through her, Charlie feels how he slowly starts to walk them both to her bed. The sound of his boots on the wooden floor filling the room. She licks her bottom lip as they both lock eyes. His arms are keeping her in one place, right there against his chest, but his mouth is on its way to her neck again as Bass slowly moves her onto the bed, her hand next to her head on the pillow now, with his entangled in hers as she lets go with a sigh.

* * *

 **A little note from me: the past few weeks have been very intense ones for me personally. I am so sure you all know what I'm talking about when I say real life can be quite challenging. There is work, study and I am currently also dealing with some health challenges. So, for the next couple of weeks there will be less updates, or shorter ones. I hope you understand! I so very much love knowing you are out there, all over the world, enjoying the story of Revolution and fanfiction. I never imagined I would meet so many talented, kind, fun and heartwarming people through one story. I always adore receiving your reviews, notes, kudo's or personal messages. They mean so much. I just wanted to let you know I am still working on my stories when I can. (This one, Secrets of Desire and Care.) But right now, it can take a bit longer for you to see another new chapter. Sending you all love and a fantastic day! Love from Love**


	4. Part Four

That day,

Part Four

He does not see her after that night. That night where she had walked into that bar to share a bottle with Staypuft. That night he had watched the emotion on Miles' face as he had embraced Charlotte. That night she had surprised the hell out of him with that kiss outside that bar. That night where he had known for good how she would taste and how Charlotte would feel. That night where he had been thinking of her until he had not been able to deal with the four walls of his apartment and he had walked his ass over to see her. That night he had found out how her skin felt under his damn fingers.

Bass knows Mathesons. And more than that, he knows her. She needs her space. Hell, he is not sure what will be next. But he knows the depth of her hurt and wounds. Rachel and her dear old dad may push all they want for her to talk or settle the hell down, he knows, and hell he really does, it does not work that way. Not for them.

So for the past few weeks, he has given her that space. That does not mean she does not keep intruding his mind all the fucking time. Her lush lips. Her hips. His hands around those damn hips, her tilting back her head with her eyes closed when he trusted deeper inside of her. Her fucking moans in the bed with him.

All of her and the memory of how she tastes and feels and sounds when he is pumping into her has him shifting in his seat this evening when he takes another sip of whiskey. Bass looks from Miles to Blanchard over his cards at the round kitchen table at Miles' place.

It's a boy's night with cards, whiskey and cigars. Blanchard had marched his ass in earlier this night with cigars and a wide grin on his stupid face. A cigar had lead to a good old fashioned night of poker and bullshit stories. And Miles can nag and whine all he wants, one look at that grin on his face and Bass knows he is enjoying the hell out of himself.

Rachel is doing something with her dad tonight, something Bass could not care less about. Well, maybe if he tried, but he is kind of fucking done with her pathetic attempts to turn Mile into a man he really isn't. It means they have the house to themselves and more than that, it means having his brother back, the man he has known since he was four.

Bass leans back in his chair while he looks at his cards and is about to throw another insult at Walnut when the three men around the kitchen table hear the sound of the kitchen door being opened on their left.

Bass swallows when his eyes are the first ones she finds. Thinking of her is one thing. Having her within reach again, is another thing. Bass takes another sip of his whiskey to give his lips and mouth something to do when all he wants to do is lick his bottom lip at the sight of so much Charlie. He sees the slow smirk emerging on her gorgeous face that tugs at his balls now he knows what she is like, all of her, under him at four a.m.

They lock eyes before Charlie nods to both Miles and Walnut. Walnut looks at her like she is his fucking next glass of whiskey and Bass feels the first wave of irritation and tension creeping into his fists for the way he dares to look at her. His fingers clutch a little bit harder around the cards in his hand.

'Well, ain't you a fine piece of ass'?' Frank says with a wide grin and eyes that move from her eyes to her hips.

Both Miles and Bass are about to kind of rip Blanchard's head of but Charlie stays calm as her eyebrow raises slightly and her arms cross before her chest while an amused mockery look settles in her eyes.

Charlie steps towards Blanchard ignoring the low growl that escaped Bass' throat while she rolling her eyes at an uncle who is ready to step in and for both men thinking she cannot handle a General on her own.

'Well, aren't you an old pain in the ass?' She does not even blink as she looks at Blanchard and throws her best Matheson smirk at the General and leader of Texas.

Frank's face turns into shock but then an honest wide grin spreads around his whole face. That, and a flash of respect for this woman he heard many things about fills his eyes as well. Miles just grins behind his glass. Bass has to look at his cards to hide one fast proud grin under his moustache as he swallows his amusement an awe for this hell of a woman away.

'And who are you?' Frank asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from herself. He gets up from his chair as he walks towards Charlie.

'Charlie Matheson, sir.' Her voice is strong. Her arms remain before her chest. 'And who the hell are you?'

Frank's eyes go wide at her strength.

'Yeah, insulting presidents is kind of what she does.' Miles says drily as Frank's mouth falls open for such a strong force of a woman in one small kitchen. Next to him, Bass chuckles and lets out a huff of air above his glass.

It is the moment where Blanchard's eyes start to sparkle as he holds out his hand for her to shake. This time, his words are filled with a tone of respect that he feels she deserves when he speaks again.

'Frank Blanchard ma'm, President of this fine nation and the boss of these two assholes.'

Charlie grins at that last part. And then, she shakes his hand with a firm shake of her own.

'Will you join us this evening?' Frank nods to the table, whiskey and cards next to him.

Bass watches as a grin appears on her face he remembers from Vegas, when she had brushed past him when Duncan had given her those men he had walked his ass all the way to Vegas for. She is fucking hot as hell. Again.

He feels her eyes on him as she takes a seat next to him and accepts the glass of whiskey and the job offer Frank will give her three hours later.

And that is how Charlie gets her next job and a glass of whiskey with a seat along the poker table with the guys that night. Bass looks at her, close to him, close to Miles, sharing a poker game and whiskey with them like she has never done anything else.

Two weeks later she is part of the unit of Rangers that make sure Willoughby is and stays safe and protected.

One month later

He is walking behind them again. Step by agonizing step. There in that church. Miles is there. Ben is there. And he has to say his impossible goodbye again. When the dream feels like a giant wave he cannot bare anymore it all stops.

Bass wakes up with the shattering and loud sense of that impossible day. There is cold sweat brushing and moving over the scars that are visible to the eye on his back. He pushes himself into a sitting position with absolute definite pain running through him as the sheets glide down over his bare chest.

The muscles in his shoulder blades are on fire with tension. His bedroom is dark. The sheets feel clammy so he pushes them away without much conviction. His breathing is out of control and his eyes are unfocussed and wide. His chest raises and falls with every wild breathe he takes. And although he is awake and in Texas, his heart and so much of him are back in Jasper again.

But most of all, he feels over and over and again and again when nightmares find him what it is like to never get to feel that sense of home again. He will never get to feel the warmth of that strong and yet bright and loving smile of his mom. He will never get to hear his father's advice when it comes to cars and all those other things he never asked advice for, but his dad had given it nevertheless. He will never get to stop some stupid fight between his younger sisters anymore. He never gets to be a part of that home again.

They left him. They left him behind.

He tells himself to breathe. And then he feels something warm against his thigh so very fucking close. Charlotte. Here in his bed with him. Still asleep. He swallows and moves a hand over his face as another wave of panic starts to wash over him. She cannot see him like this. Not after everything. Not after the role he has played in taking so much from her. The fact that he has been trying desperately for everybody else to see that Miles was right the hell there with him does not mean he has forgotten what he has done.

He does not want her to see him like this. He does not want to put her through that. He does not get to have anything from her this night. He won't allow himself to wake her up or to place his burden on her shoulders.

So he pushes himself out of bed silently. When his feet hit the wooden floor his elbows land on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. He feels the moist of tears in the palm of his hands. With one low agonizing breathe he gets up from the bed, as he cannot even look at Charlotte who is breathing evenly and is asleep in his bed.

He makes his way to his living room. Bass grabs a lonely bottle of booze from the kitchen counter before he slumps down on his couch. His arms on his knees, staring in the dark and with the bottle in his hand.

* * *

Charlie wakes up in a bed that is not her own. Alone. It is dark and cold as she shivers. She sits up slowly. She does not know when it started. It just did. They did not talk about it. In between assignments and jobs her team of Rangers gets from Blanchard she finds herself more and more in Monroe's bed. Or waking up to the scent of his skin when she somehow moved over to find him in her sleep.

She feels she does not have the energy to drag her herself back home or tell him to go home after they shared a bed and hours of skin against skin and his arms pulling her closer as she straddles him. Or maybe she just does not want to. Either way, she does not care. This is hers. She wants this. Here. Now. And that is, for now, enough. He does not ask, she does not ask. It just happened.

She moves the sheets away as she moves her bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom as she takes the same path towards the living room Bass took one hour earlier. She finds him in the dark cold living room. Alone. Tension running through him, harsh lines in his face.

He hears her. He feels her in the room with her. Charlotte. She slowly walks to where he sits on the couch.

Shame follows after the cold vivid images of that same nightmare he has to endure for years now and that keeps on going the moment he wakes up. He can shake the sleep away with whiskey but not the nightmare. Never the nightmares. He takes another sip from the bottle as he looks straight ahead.

'Don't.' His voice sounds low and on edge, a hoarse warning in it. The word rolls of his lips as he presses his lips together afterwards. Locking himself up and keeping her out. He can't look at her. He just can't.

Charlie looks at the broken man sitting in front of her. She ignores his warning as she sits down next to him. She looks at his wild curls, his locked jaw, the tension in the muscles of his neck. At eyes that are darkened not only by the absent of light when he has not bothered to make a fire in the fireplace.

He thinks she does not know about the nightmares. She does. She has felt them running through them. Not only here. But out there on the road too. From the very start she spend that first night with him near that fire outside Pottsboro.

He is shutting her out. She knows. She has seen how Miles did the same to her, so many times before. Telling her to get the hell away from him. Getting lost in his own guilt and misery. She has not given up on him. She never will.

And now, she finds herself here in his living room , feeling the same about the man who is now sitting next to her in his own world of misery. She knows he wants to lock her out of the grey that is going on his heart. He can try all he wants to, she simply will not let him. If he thinks he can tell her what to do, he is dead wrong. She does not give him any space to outrun her comfort. Comfort she was not sure she had within her. She finds that part of her has somehow survived.

Bass fingers tremble around the bottle. He feels how her steady hand moves to his left shoulder, as she sits next to him. She does not talk, or ask questions or give fucking meaningless comfort or tell him that everything will be all right. Because some things will never be. They both know.

They just sit, together. Until the fingers around his bottle tremble so hard and even if he wants to stop them, he can't. The tears that are there. Again. One simple hand on his shoulder and her scent so damn close are what are standing now between his demons and him this night as a strong loyal force of protection. Her.

Charlie stays with him, there. Close. She feels how cold he is, she feels how empty she is. She grabs the plaid from the side of the couch. The plaid he got for her two days ago when she was going through some reports late at night and she was cold. She never asked for it, but he still got it for her.

She slowly moves the plaid over his shoulders. And then, without words and one strong movement from his arms he pulls her into his lap. He holds on to her as she holds on to him.

She lets him burry his head against her neck while he pulls her closer to his chest. And Charlie understands they know, they both know this place so very well, filled with loss and their demons and nightmares. They understand. Both of them. Here and together as Bass buries his head in her neck and in her hair and she lets him.

* * *

 **Author's Note: The second half of this chapter was a link to the start of this story, showing that Bass knows about loss too and how he finally lets Charlie see a part of that just like she did in chapter one. I wanted to write about how Charlie understands that not only Miles has that wall around him (something we saw between her and Miles in season one) but Bass has that wall of pain and loss and time moving along too. And as she has never given up on Miles, she realizes, she will not give up on Bass either. Thank you for your very kind words of support I received after last chapter. I am taking my time as I am working on my health and when I have inspiration and energy, I love to keep on writing and to work on my stories! I wanted to thank you all and a special thank you to Lemon and Threemapgies for theor feedback. You are all amazing and kind people! I hope to see you again at the next chapter, Love from Love**


	5. Part Five

That day,

Part five

Charlie enjoys her dinner while the light of the candles on the dinner table are reflecting in her eyes. She went out to hunt for that meat right before sunset last night herself. Just because she has a job and her own apartment now does not mean she stops being Charlie Matheson.

It has been four months since Frank Blanchard has offered her a job at that night of poker with him, Miles and Bass. Weeks turned into months and she has never regretted the decision to say yes to his offer. Her small apartment is slowly becoming a part of a sense of home she has not felt in a long time.

Her work is not easy but it is rewarding and she enjoys being part of a team of Rangers that make a difference on a daily basis. She is a solid part of her team and she is she enjoys working alongside the men and woman of her group. Her experience has been welcomed with respect and admiration and from the very start Charlie has realized how well both Miles, and Monroe, have trained her for this work.

She is making new friends and slowly her life is shifting into a new rhythm. It is completely new to her, but Charlie feels she is finally getting some steady ground under her feet.

She takes a sip of whiskey as the fire in the fireplace behind her fill the room.

'So, Blanchard is not giving you trouble?'

Charlie looks up and over to her dinner companion. She meets Aaron's eyes across the table.

'Well, after a year on the road with Miles and Bass I think I can handle that old grumpy ass.' Charlie smirks.

Aaron chuckles, as he takes another tasteful bite of meat before he moves over to warm potatoes and salad. He looks at Charlie. Bass. It is Bass now. He knows Monroe has been Bass to Charlie for a very long time now. Aaron knew even before she started referring to him as Bass in their conversations. He has never said anything about it. He knows Charlie has been through hell and back and yet, she has still managed to stay within her own strength. So when she brought Monroe back, he knew she had her reasons. Good reasons.

He knows he, and Rachel, Miles, Connor and even Monroe himself, had been worried sick since that day they had to let her go when the news had reached them that they had won this gruesome war. He had watched an expression on Miles' and Monroe's face, an expression of aching hurt and guilt that was in his heart as well when Charlie had slung her crossbow over her shoulder and had walked away.

He also knows they should not have been surprised she made it back to them. The moment he got to embrace her again he had felt this giant wave of relieve washing over him. He had once made a silent promise to Ben to take care of her and he knows letting her go to be on her own for a while was something she needed. But when she walked into that bar, he had felt tears sting in his eyes.

Because this incredible woman he will always see as that girl in pig tails even now she has grown into a strong force of a woman, she is strength. And a part of him. He is grateful she is back. She is still Charlie. Working hard, building a life for herself. Taking care of herself.

And he has not told her, yet. But these kind of evenings, when it is him and her, when they talk or not talk and just eat in comfortable silence, mean the world to him. He knows Ben and Maggie would be so proud. He has to swallow, pushing some tears back he does not want her to see. He looks around in her small but inviting apartment and then he looks only at her.

'You are different kiddo.' Aaron's voice is filled with warmth when Charlie meets his eyes from across her dinner table.

'Yeah, I guess I am.' Charlie smiles at him as she thinks about his words.

Charlie loves Aaron for getting her, maybe even before she has figured things out on her own. He visits her often. He always brings her something she insists she does not need but she is grateful for all the kind gestures that are so much like Aaron.

Tonight he has brought a bottle of good whiskey over and it is standing as a companion on the table with them. It reminds them both of Ben. They share the bottle while they share the memories in silence.

He visits her whenever he can, but not that often to make her feel overwhelmed. He has known her for such a long time and he still does. He gives her space but he also makes her feel that he is there. Her mother makes a decent effort. It is a tense dance of finding balance, while they are figuring out how to be mother and daughter once more. Miles is making more than an effort, as they are both trying to adjust a new life, while Miles is figuring out how to build a life after guilt and despair.

But Aaron, Aaron could be the bravest of them all. He is a bridge for her, a bridge between what was and what is. He is not afraid to talk about Ben or Danny. He remembers Nora. Together with her. He knows what Jason meant to her. He knows what it meant to her, that day, there in Austin. He knows her mom. He knows Miles.

And he was there, that day when she had stood in front of a court house in the heart of Willoughby when Monroe had stood before her. One last moment, or she had believed it had been their last moment. One last moment of him and her. One question for her. A request. A plea. _Take care of your uncle kid._

Aaron pours himself some more whiskey. 'You know, this is some very good whiskey. But I could really use a cold beer right now.' The nostalgic sigh that is so honest makes Charlie grin.

'Well, I don't know about those cold beers. But if you want to, there is more meat?' Charlie pushes herself up from her place at the table as she is about to walk to the kitchen.

'Do you even need to ask?' Aaron grins, appreciating her hunting skills and her contribution to dinner.

There is a knock on the door as Charlie is smiling about a stupid joke Aaron makes. She shares a look with Aaron as she walks over to her front door. There is a lot of Monroe waiting for her at the other side of the door. As she stands there with the doorknob in her hands there is a quick hungry grin on his face. He shifts his weight towards his other boot right in front of her.

'That,' He points two fingers at her breasts, ' that thing does some fucking good things with you ti...,'

They both hear an urgent cough behind them. When Charlie smiles that slow predatory smile of hers, Bass knows she is not alone. His eyes move over her shoulder with a more calculated look in his eyes while he presses his lips together and tension appears in his jaws, his eyes going a bit darker than usual.

'Staypuft.' His voice is hoarse as he nods to the other man.

Charlie has to bite back a smirk when she hears relieve in his voice as she watches how Bass realizes it is Aaron who joined her for dinner instead of another guy.

'Monroe.' Aaron nods back, his voice cool. He could be _Bass_ now to Charlie, but Aaron is in no mood to be nice to him if Monroe insists on being a giant asshole.

Bass looks from him to the dinner table and then back to Charlie who is clearly pissed at how he is greeting staypuft. He swallows at so much Matheson glare in her eyes,

Charlie is about to get pissed but then she sees the flash of insecurity in Bass' eyes as he tries to shove it all behind that Monroe mask of smug arrogance and indifference.

She makes a decision right then and there. She knows she does not have to ask Aaron, she knows he probably on some level already knows what Monroe has become to her. She can feel he gives her her space to take this where she wants to take this evening. He lets her choose. He lets her be her.

'I think we have some room at the table for one more, right?' Charlie asks Aaron.

'Well, you did catch enough meat for the entire town. I doubt even Monroe can eat all that in one evening.'

Charlie smiles at Aaron as she looks back to Monroe, who's eyes move from smug to something completely else as she is raising one eyebrow as she sees the struggle in his eyes. 'Well?'

Bass scratches the back of his head. He used to be good at this. Have dinner, flirt his ass off with a woman, enjoy booze and bullshit stories. But that was before.

He is kind of ready to get the hell out of here. But then he looks at her _. Fuck_. He sees the open look in her eyes and the honest look on her face. She wants him to stay. And then he looks at Staypuft who is already grabbing another plate. He does not feel unwanted. He does not feel like the third wheel he should be feeling.

'Sure, why the hell not...' he grumbles, barely audible as he walks into her room as Charlie shuts her front door behind him.

Charlie looks at Bass who is walking into her living room. Normally his hello would be a heated kiss and a wide hand under her tank but right now, he does not even have the guts to look at her now Aaron is in the room.

Bass is ignoring Charlie's smirk for the kiss he was dying to give her five minutes ago but he is afraid to give her now Staypuft is in the room. He sighs as he shrugs out of his leather jacket as he is sitting his ass down at the dinner table, right next to her.

Aaron walks back to the table. And Monroe, he looks nervous as hell. Aaron realizes with a satisfied sigh that the General actual looks nervous. Aaron stops the smile he feels forming on his face.

He scrapes his throat as he pushes a plate with food towards Monroe. His voice sounds like they are doing this all the time when he speaks again.

'So, how's work?' Aaron manages to keep the smile out of his voice that is threatening to overtake him as Charlie snorts above her plate at the absurdity in Aaron's question as Monroe shoots him his very own are you fucking serious look.

Bass is about to snarl something towards Staypuft but then he sees the honest look in his eyes and he watches Charlie snort next to him as there is food on the table and a fire burning in the fireplace. And that desire to lash out moves into a wide grin. And with that grin that turns into an honest smile that Charlie feels all the way into her chest and surprises Aaron, Bass grabs a fork to start his dinner with an unexpected new friend .

'Fine...boss from hell and a domesticated Miles every day at the office but hey...other than that fine. You?'

Charlie is grinning but still kicks him under the table for insulting Miles. He vows to her with just his eyes she will pay for that one later.

Two hours pass and although the start is awkward, Charlie realizes both Bass and Aaron are really trying. There is food and conversation and right before midnight there his arm is leaning on the chair behind her back, when Bass leans in a bit closer casually as he sits next to her.

'Well, thanks for dinner kiddo but I think I am going to see how Priscilla is doing.' Aaron smiles to Charlie, looking at her and Monroe. _This should be weirder_ , is all that flashes through his mind. _Rachel and Miles are definitely going to kill him if they figure out he has figured it out before they did_ is not that far behind. He decides it is a thought for another day as Charlie grabs some plates and walks them over to the kitchen.

Aaron is on his way to the door when he stops right in front of Monroe. Bass is leaning against the back of her couch with one hand in the pocket of his jeans.

'If you even think of hurting her?' Aaron's eyes are serious behind his glasses, 'Let me remind you I have a very scary badass wife. And she _will_ help me burry your body if you ever do something stupid.'

Bass swallows. Somehow the woman in their lives always manage to scare the hell out of him. Miles too. Both badass Generals have seen a lot of shit in their lives, but one look from Charlie, Priscilla or Rachel and they both know when it is time to shut the hell up.

'Understood.' Bass' voice is low as an arrogant fast grin appears on his face. And then staypuft surprises the hell out of him when he offers him his hand to shake. Both men can feel Charlie's eyes on them. Bass swallows. And then the arrogant grin turns into an honest smile. And there is a small nod from Bass to Aaron as he shakes the other man's hand.

Charlie looks at two of the three most important men in her life. She smiles at the both of them. They handshake is a bit awkward, but she knows the truth behind the gesture. They are both making an effort. For her. It is a sudden and fast truth that reaches her and that warms her from within.

After they both said goodnight to Aaron, Charlie walks back to the table, taking in his scent that reaches her as she walks passed him.

'So, want another drink?'

'That is a surprising question coming from a Matheson.' He smirks. 'Do you even need to ask?'

Charlie shoots him one of her smiles she seems to save for when it is just the two of them and he finds he likes being the one that puts that smile on her fucking gorgeous face.

'I'll get us some glasses.'

Bass thinks that is an excellent idea but he can think of something else they could do in that little kitchen of hers. Charlie is cleaning up her kitchen as he walks in to lean against her kitchen counter like he has never done anything else. She locks eyes with him for a couple of seconds. It feels like a weird new normal, having him in her kitchen while she cleans up and growls at him to get out of the way if he is not going to make himself useful. A weird normal she only knows from books and stories. Of how her life could have been, if everything had not been so horrible different.

And yet, here she is. Here he is. Bass is still leaning his stupid ass against her kitchen counter as Charlie walks to a kitchen cabinet as she reaches for two glasses. She has not even reached those two glasses as she hears his boots right behind her on her kitchen floor.

His wide thighs are pressing against her legs, and ass as Bass pins her against the kitchen counter. Charlie already feels a surge moving from her lower belly to her heart as it is beating harder now under her tank top. She feels the tension running through her thighs pressed together at the feeling of so much raw muscle hard man behind her.

'Fuck those glasses .' Bass growls with heat in her ear as he takes in her scent with a deliberate movement of his nose nuzzling her neck and hair. He is taking his time, as he makes her wet just breathing against her skin. Charlie closes her eyes as her fingers dig into the wood of the kitchen counter before her.

One of his large hands move her hair away from her neck, exposing her skin to the air and his breath. 'Have been wanting to fuck you all night.'

He takes her low moan as his personal victory.

He does not kiss her. He breathes in her scent as he lets his hand roam freely over her body. _His_. All his. Only his. His hand cups her breast. He touches her side with his fingertips, a deliberate trail of his want for her after watching her for hours at a dinner table. And then, he does not waste any more time. He unbuttons her pants as his hands move into black panties and his fingers play with wet damp curls.

When Bass fingers find her wet swollen skin, she lets out another moan. Charlie tilts her hips to give him more access and room for his touch she craves more than anything right now. She moves her head back to his tall body, finding that spot right under his right collarbone that she starts to find with eyes closed and her back towards him, a spot on his body she knows now by heart. She feels his fingers find their way to her clit.

He plays with her, with her body while she stands there between his damn legs, in her kitchen, pressed against her kitchen counter .

She feels him, hears him, smells him. There is the sound of his zipper and then there are his hand moving her pants down her thighs. He moves behind her, as she can feel his wide thighs around her hips.

The low frustrated groan at the slow pace he is torturing her with makes him smirk as he presses his tongue against his teeth.

'What's wrong Charlotte...' he presses the head of his cock against her thighs and then her entrance.

Charlie cannot think straight as her eyes are closed and he encircles her with his arms, keeping her in place with his hot words and chest.

It is not until she begs for his cock, he gives her what she, and dammit, what he needs.

Charlie feels strong experienced hands around her hips as he positions her until he is satisfied he has her right where he wants her as he pushes inside of her with force. She forms her whole body against him as he catches her. His wide chest behind her. The certainty that he will he set the pace in a way where she knows he knows how to make her come.

She is not sure she can take any more deep well placed trust from him when one of his large arms move around her body, holding her against his, in a way that makes her melt into him and makes her never want to leave this spot between his thighs.

His arm rests against her belly and his hand greedily searches for her nipple. One more thrust, one more low moan from her that mixes with a hungry greedy groan from the back of his throat and she comes standing between his legs.

Bass feels her spasms around his damn cock. 'Fuck...Charlotte...' His words and her name are a low grunt and need for her all in one.

When he cannot hold back anymore and pulls out of warm wetness he registers her warm hand on his arm as she reaches out for him as he closes his eyes and comes with a growl and so much of Charlotte so fucking close to him. They stand there, as he nuzzles her hair in the dark, and her breathing is mixing with the sound of his. And all Bass wants to do is soak up her scent and the woman that is so her right there in his damn arms.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your reviews and feedback for last chapter. And thank you to everyone who keeps on inspiring me to write fanfiction. Your feedback and kind support mean so very much to me! I love knowing you are all still out there, enjoying Revolution too! Love from Love**


	6. Part six

That day

Chapter six

Charlie is still standing between his damn legs in her kitchen. Her hair brushes his scruff and gets entangled with his stubble. She has not moved since he made her come. Hell, _he_ has not moved since he came. He just gives in to that existing craving that is there of not wanting to let her go as he holds her. He keeps Charlie locked in his arms for as long as she lets him and wants him there. The soft skin of her ass pressed against his wide bare thighs.

Bass is still keeping her in one place with one muscled arm round her belly. His finger are still caressing the line of her breasts. Her fingers are still circled around his arm. There is something about him that makes her stay. There is something about his touch that is possessive and yet more gentle at the same time than he has ever showed her. So she closes her eyes and lets Bass hold her against his chest as she feels the lazy haze of release flow through her body.

Bass can't fucking move as Charlie melts more into him. She slowly turns in his arms as she just looks at him. He feels tension building in the muscles of his neck and in his jaws for the way she locks eyes with him. He watches how she decides to explore his moustache with gentle fingers instead of that demanding hot as fuck mouth of hers. He has no other choice but let her as his hand to her face as he moves his fingers into her hair as he pulls her closer to him.

There is another knock on the door that reaches them through the feeling of his fingers going through her hair. Bass grins to Charlie. He is close enough to her she can take in his breath and the scent of whiskey entangled in it .

'I think staypuft is coming back for his booze.' Bass chuckles, his voice and breath mingling into a soft warmth against her ear. Charlie smiles at him before she closes the button of her jeans and steps away from a lot of Bass so close to her as she walks over to the door.

It is not Aaron. When Charlie opens her door and the skin of her cheeks are still burning with the things Bass did to her when he pressed her with hot thrusts against her kitchen counter, Miles is standing at the other side of the door.

'Hey kid, got some whiskey for...' he stops abruptly when Bass walks out of the kitchen with messy curls and a wrinkled shirt.

One look and Miles' darker eyes shoot fire. He knows Bass. After decades of being friends with this moron he knows well fucked and guilty when he sees it.

'Bass...' his tone and the tension in his shoulders have reached Miles Matheson threat.

Miles looks from him to Charlie and then back to him. And then he just barges into the room as Charlie steps in between them. 'You son of a bitch...' He takes another large step towards both Charlie and Bass.

Bass is about to step in front of Charlie but she is too fucking fast. So he stands before Miles, with her so close to the both of them as Miles' eyes are filled with thunder and rage. The tree of them are back at a place they all know so very well.

Charlie and Bass know each other in more ways than either of them had ever imagined. They shared a road. They shared long silences near a fire under the cover of a night sky. They fought unimaginable hard fights together in an impossible war. They saved each other's lives, they stood up for the other. They fucked. But neither of them had been able to put any it and what it means to them into words.

Until now. Until today.

'What did you do to her?' Miles is so pissed, Charlie can hear the low tremble behind his words. His insinuation is pissing her of even more.

'Nothing, he did not do anything to me.' Charlie is not yelling but her voice is enraged as well at the accusation Miles is making. Again. 'He is here because I want him here.'

Bass wants to fucking say something for the way Miles is talking to her and for the way she is defending him. But guilt and a whole lot of other fucking mess from the past keeps him locked in one place.

Over Charlie's shoulder Miles locks eyes with Bass in a deadly way. Bass is about to open his damn mouth as Miles is going in for the kill.

'You are not spending one more minute in here Bass. Get the hell out and away from her. Or I'll swear, I will drag your ass out of here myself you son of a bitch...I am not going to watch how you hurt her or get her killed as well.'

Bass swallows as Miles' rage filled words turn into inevitable images. _Shelly. Emma._

Bass hates the force of tears that are attacking his eyes as he feels Charlie's eyes on him but he can't meet hers.

It is the moment Charlie's heart breaks free in a wild storm as she hears the sharpness like the ridges of broken glass in Miles' words. One look at Bass and she knows how much old hurt and pain and guilt one sentence can hold.

And maybe in the past she would have stood there and next to Miles, agreeing with every word Miles was saying about the man standing behind her now, without even blinking. But not today.

The past year she has started to get to know the whole story and not just one side of it. Every time she felt more rage, for Monroe, for the world, it was because she had found a new truth that was so hard to take in. She can see that now.

Things are not as black and white she thought her life and the world out there would be, when she grew up within the protective life of the walls of Sylvana Estates. She knows things are different than she had always believed them to be. She knows they are endlessly more complex. She knows with a heavy heart that Miles, her mom, and even her dad, they all had their role in making the world she knows now. Just like Bass.

Her voice is strong as she finds her uncle's eyes. 'Miles, he would never hurt me.' There is rage locked in the way she talks to Miles, for accusing Bass of the opposite.

'No, he is right.' Bass says with a bitter harsh tone in his voice, as he looks at Miles with a biting kind of steel blue in his growl together with a deadly sarcasm that has to push all the other things he is feeling right the hell now out. He opens his arms in a mocking gesture. 'He always is. Right Miles? Huh?'

'I disagree.' Charlie's words stop both men who are locked inside an old repetitive circle of rage and not being able to let go of each other's eyes as she stands in the middle, her eyes firmly on Miles.

'I have given you every change since that day I walked all the way to Chicago. I gave you another chance after you refused to come with me when there was no one else to ask for help. I waited for you until you were ready to talk. I gave you another change every time when you never wanted to. I stood there, right beside you when you made your choices. Including my mom..' This time Miles flinches at her mentioning an ugly affair that has been buried under the layers time. Until Rachel came back into his life.

This time her voice is trembling as well as all the old unsaid hurt between her and him reach the surface. But she never looks away from Miles. 'Don't you dare deny me doing the same.'

Miles just looks at her, shocked about the way she is dragging everything unsaid between them in the open. Bass swallows as he watches Charlotte before he looks at his brother.

Charlie's voice is slower when she speaks again. 'I get it, all right. I get this is not easy. But you cannot do this. Not after everything. Just like you live your life, I love mine. This is my life. . And he..,' she looks at Bass with a certainty Bass never saw before in her eyes, 'he is my choice. And I care about him.'

Bass takes an unsteady breath at her words that are almost bringing him through his fucking knees. He has to lock his jaws with every fucking bit of self control left to push back tears he does not want her or Miles to see.

Miles sees the look in Bass' eyes. There are tears pooling in his eyes he has known for so long now. And it are those tears that are ripping him apart from the inside. The certainty of Charlie's words, the way she stands right before Bass, with so much of her strength and stubbornness. They all show him this shit is much more than he thought it was.

'I think you need to go, Miles.' Charlie looks from Miles to Bass, who's eyes are filled with tears now.

'Kid...' An almost helplessness tone in his words that is so unlike Miles and anything Charlie ever saw from him before.

'No,' There is a finality in that word that reaches Miles like a bullet. 'Go home, cool down. I will be here when you want to talk. Stop by tomorrow. But now, you need to go.'

Miles looks with a broken look in his eyes to Charlie and then to Bass. He nods before he turns and walks slowly to the door. His fingers crave to cup her cheek for so much that lays in Charlie's eyes but he can't. And more than that, Miles knows Charlie won't allow him.

She locks the door behind him. With her back turned towards Bass she lets out a long breath as she closes her eyes for one second as the sound of Miles boots on the wooden floor in the hallway of her apartment building keep the silence in her apartment company.

She cares. About him. Of what he became to her. She really does. But she has not told him. She has not told Bass. She has moved something into the open she cannot take back. It is the truth. But it also terrifying her beyond anything. And that truth is filling her heart and mind right before she has enough courage to turn around and find his eyes. When she turns she sees Bass reach for his leather jacket that lies on the back of her couch.

'He is right,' his voice is hoarse and unsure and his eyes are almost unwilling to meet with hers too long, 'maybe..' There is a heavy sigh that escapes his chest. 'maybe this...'

She looks at him as she feels a new spike of anger move to the surface. This time for another General She is not sure if she is going to punch him right in the face and looking at Bass, he is not sure either.

Bass looks at a pissed of Charlie. But then he sees a change in her shoulders and eyes.

'If you think I am going to listen to any of your bullshit...' Charlie says with a firm tone in her voice. She feels her muscles tremble as she realizes there is only one path she wants to take tonight. The truth.

Bass looks at her in honest shocked surprise as Charlie continues. 'I think we having something that is worth fighting for. I care about you. I want you, Bass.' Her words are filled with gentle strong care he has not heard from her before mixed with a stubborn certainty that _is_ so much like her.

She simply looks at him when she walks towards her bedroom, moving her hands to the hem of her tank, about to pull her tank over her head. 'You coming?'

Bass swallows. Doubt and old hurt and pain wash over his face as his mind screams with all the reasons why he should walk away from her. But then he locks eyes with her and her eyes give him the one reason why he shouldn't. And her eyes, she, Charlotte. They are all that matter.

When he finally has the balls to follow her into the dark of her bedroom, Charlie is already tucked under the sheets.

She hears the heavy steps of his boots on her bedroom floor. She can see him undress even when she is not looking at him. She just knows what it looks like, a Bass that moves his shirt over his head, his fingers opening his belt. The bed creaks when he moves in behind her and the back of her legs find his thighs behind her. She feels every single piece of tension running through him as she takes in his scent.

She is with him in a heartbeat as she tilts her head to reach for him behind her, her nose close to his scruff as he feels how she breathes him in. He can't fucking move. Truth is, he fucking cares about her. But he can't fucking tell her. He feels pathetic. He should tell her. This is Charlotte. She deserves a better man. Not him. And yet, with all her stubborn strength she choose him.

Charlie moves her back closer to his chest as Bass lays behind her. Her ass finds his hard cock. His urgent hardness tells her so much. The way she is radiating with warmth co close to his cock and fingers that find wetness tell him so much too. Bass takes charge as he enters her from behind. Charlie's welcomes him with a soft release of her breath. His thrusts are forceful and yet slow.

But then Charlie feels how he reaches for her hips as Bass positions her with her belly on the mattress as his tall body covers her completely. He fills her with a low moan Charlie has never heard before. She feels possessive and eager lips on her neck and shoulder blades that worship every piece of her skin and her. His rhythm escalates. He supports his weight on one elbow as his other hand moves around her belly and pushes her completely back against him as he takes her like he has never done before, his fingers playing with her clit, his body and arm keeping her close to him.

Charlie looses herself in the rhythm he is choosing for them. His grunts are getting deeper and filled with more hunger and need with every thrusts. And when she is close she can feel he is too. When he comes right after her, she hears her name, as a low needy open vulnerable grunt in her ear. She does not recognise her own moans anymore as they mix with his and there is only Bass within her now.

'Charlotte...' He thrusts again...'Fuck...Charlotte...I...' There is one more long growl when he comes hard that tells her the rest of what he wants to say to her and everything he cannot tell her in words at the same time. It does not matter, she knows. There, on that day in that one moment of her name in one hoarse moan. She knows.

Charlie's cry fills the room with him as he closes his eyes and feels the wave of release from his balls deep inside of her.

He holds her and keeps on holding her when they both get entangled in the other. His arms around her. His release within her, her salty sweat on his skin. And it is only when he kisses tears from her eyelashes she realizes they are there.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your kind reviews and follows, they mean so very much. I always adore hearing from you! I love writing this story but this part was extra special to write because of everything that reached the surface in this chapter. I am working on another very passionate chapter for Secrets of Desire and I will publish the next and final chapter for 'This day' soon! Love from Love**


	7. Part Seven

That day,

Part Seven

Aaron knows how to give a party. He has told her many times about many parties where he would enjoy food, friends, family and champagne before the blackout. Charlie smiles at the music that already reaches her when the bar in the heart of Willoughby is laying before her . And looking and listening at the party buzz before her, she realizes Aaron still knows how to give a party. People are drinking, talking and laughing.

She is actually looking forward to meeting some of his friends and she has promised Aaron she would stop by. She hopes to meet Bass at the party a bit later, because he is still stuck in some meeting with Blanchard. He had been in one hell of a mood this morning when he had left her bed. She had listened to the sound of heavy pissed of boots going through her apartment. But before he had left, Bass had walked his ass back into the bedroom as he had found the warm hollow of her neck with his mouth. Gently sucking on the skin as he had placed a soft kiss in her neck, his warm breath connecting with the sensitive skin of that one spot he is always able to find.

When she walks into the bar, she notices that Miles is there. She walks through the crowd towards him and when their eyes connect, she nods. She can see the tension running through his eyes as she notices how uncomfortable Miles still is, even though they had talked that next morning after he had found Bass in her apartment and both men and herself had found out exactly how deep her feelings ran for him.

She had been speaking the truth when she had told Miles she wanted him to go home that night. But she had also meant it, when she had said he could come back and talk. He had. They did. And thing were still awkward, and things between Bass and Miles were still filled with friction from years gone by but somehow they were finding a way through. Behind all that friction and hurt, there were still enough ties that kept both brothers in a place where they could not walk away from the other.

Charlie makes her way through the sea of people who are enjoying their night. A luxury after the war and people are eagerly trying to reconnect with more lightness and a drink with good stories and friends. She greets Connor with a grin, who is standing at the other side of the bar and is busy impressing a girl with some of his best stories. He greets her with a warm smile before he focusses on the girl in front of him again with a charming grin on his face. Of course she finds her uncle at the bar of the bar.

'Miles...hey.' Her voice is not unfriendly as her leather jacket brushes his shirt and they are standing close together at the bar.

Miles looks up while his eyes light up as he sees his niece. 'Hey kid...decided to join the party?'

'Well, I am a Matheson.' She smirks at Miles.

Miles grins at her response. 'Well then... let me buy you a drink.'

'Miles?'

'Yeah kid?'

'It's a party, you do know those drinks are free, right?' Charlie smirks as she meets Miles' eyes and she feels the old familiar warmth in his eyes that always manages to reach her.

'Still getting you that drink, kid.' Miles winks at her.

Charlie laughs out loud, a sound that crashes all the way into Miles' chest. They have more than that one drink as they do not talk much but both of them enjoy spending some time with the other.

After their second drink she sees Aaron waving to her to come over and meet someone. Before Charlie walks to Aaron she grabs her drink and places her hand on Miles' arm. There is just one small nod in her eyes and his, but is enough for the both of them.

She walks over to Aaron and another guy in his mid forties. She knows Aaron is trying to build a life in town just as everyone else and she is making an effort to get to know his friends. After all, he has always done the same.

'Charlie ,' she shakes the hand of the man standing next to Aaron as a first greeting.

'Tim, a friend of Aaron's. Nice to meet you ma'm.' He nods with respect to Charlie. She is a valued part of the team that keeps his town safe and the people in town respect her strength and fighting spirit and skills.

Aaron snorts as he hears that last part of Tim's line and the small smirk flowing around Charlie's mouth and eyes. As far he is concerned, Charlie is that girl in pigtails who is not afraid of anyone.

Aaron hands her a glass of cool cider while Charlie listens with a polite smile to Tim's stories about his store in the centre of Willoughby and his family and children. She is on her way to being a bit buzzed and with enough food around, she is willing to give him a couple of more minutes of her time.

'Yeah those little ones...they can be a handful but my wife and I would not have it any other way.' Tim grins with pride, taking another gulp from his drink. 'So, enough about me... how about you? Do you have a family on your own? Brothers, sisters?'

Aaron's face drops. He knows Tim is just making small talk and that the booze is making him chatty. But he feels every weight of the impossible pain in friends words reflected in Charlie's eyes and whole face.

Miles is not standing that far away from them . He looks only at Charlie as he has heard the question and felt the pain raging through him with a desire to punch the asshole in the face for his stupid as hell question. His eyes go hollow and yet more darker at the same time at everything Tim put into that question without even knowing it.

Charlie feels how her mouth feels like she didn't have a single drop of water for days. She feels how her heart beats faster, how the back of her throat feels numb. How she cannot feel her body.

'If you'll excuse me, I think I need some more cider.' It is the best excuse her mind can come up with now. Her face is pale and there is the start of a apologetic fake smile on her face. She hears Aaron mumble something to Tim who looks shocked but she cannot be here anymore. She only knows she has to go. Now.

'Oh hell...' Miles curses as he follows her through the crowd as he shoves people out of his way. 'Charlie...' Miles tries, feeling sick to his damn stomach for the pain on Charlie's face. He feels powerless when she is storming out of the bar with tears he can already see in her eyes. He tries to stop her. He raises his voice as it booms over the crowd in the bar. 'Charlie, wait.'

'Not now Miles.' Charlie almost yells and yet her voice is flat but filled with so much pain as she pushes him out with her words. And all Miles can do is stand outside a damn bar and watch her walk away from him as she slowly disappears in the distance.

* * *

Charlie sees the half empty bottle of booze through her tears. It is dark. And late. She went to her apartment but could not bear to spend one more second between those four walls. So she grabbed a bottle that Miles and Bass left on her table and she had walked out her door.

And even though she keeps on drinking from the bottle in her hands, the pain wont lessen. It is a hollow and yet all consuming pain all at once. Her knife pressing against her thigh. A silent companion. She leans into the tall wall of bricks behind her, as it is supporting her with their could rough surfaces as she sits down against it.

There are some stars, but she cannot see them now her tears turn everything into a blur. And all she can think about is everyone who is not there. The family she will never get to see and be a part of.

People she has known all of her life. People that are not there anymore. And even if they are there, _her mom, Miles_ , she hardly recognises them anymore as they have been changed because of one project her mom and dad had been involved in so many years ago.

Her mom had told her about it once, on a long painful night where they had shared a porch and a rare honest conversation. It had put everything in a new perspective. Her old life. Her dad. Her mom. Their work. What they had tried to do. What they had caused instead. Those days when Chicago had turned into a city with desolated streets. Miles. Bass. The Republic. The men they became through time. That night had made everything easier and yet so much complex and harder to understand at the same time.

She drinks, she stares. Staring in the dark with pale stars high above her head. She misses them. She misses them so. So much she can't move. So she sits. And drinks. And let's the hollow take over.

* * *

Bass had a long fucking day. He just wants to get some sleep and wrap Charlie in his arms and forget this whole day. Blanchard had been a giant ass in a long as hell meeting that made his fingers crave for a drink even before lunch.

He does not know how the hell they ended up here. Charlie. _Charlotte._ Him walking to her place, wanting to take in her scent and feel her thighs around his middle. Her place is his. His place is hers. They fuck, they drink. Laugh. Talk. They don't talk. They fight. Make up. Fight some more. She lets him in. She pushes him out. Comes back. He lets her in. He pushes her out. But he always comes back for her.

He knows Staypuft is throwing some kind of party. But he needs her and only her. Screw the rest. He is on his way to her place when he sees Miles, Connor and Staypuft standing before the bar. One look at Miles' face and his kid's eyes and he knows there is trouble ahead. He quickens his pace. When staypuft looks at him from behind his glasses with sad puppy eyes and he hears _he_ r name, his heart starts to beat wildly in his damn chest.

'What..' he scrapes his throat, ' what the hell is going on?'

He listens to both Connor and Staypuf as they both tell him what happened one hour ago.

'And you let her go?' Bass voice is rough as he turns to Miles, his hands craving to grab Miles by his jacket.

'Hey dad...' Connor intervenes, ' calm down.'

'We wanted to give her some room, but...' Aaron nods and swallows as he feels Charlie's hurt over and over again. '...when we went to her place ...she was not there. '

'Excuse me?' Bass barks, looking from Miles to Staypuft.

He locks eyes with Miles as they both know without a fucking doubt their girl could be in a lot of fucking trouble. He watches Miles' despair and guilt he has known for so long. They both know that hollow place where she could be headed too. Fuck, they both have lived this day once before and he knows where it had ended for him that day. Alone, on a fucking graveyard in Jasper, with a bottle of whiskey and a gun in his hands, thinking about ending it all and to leave every piece of guilt and grieve behind.

'Miles...' there is rough worry in Bass' voice. 'We have to find her, now.'

* * *

They split up as Bass, Miles, Connor and Aaron all walk into a different direction with the same worry and woman on their mind.

Bass is feeling desperate rage running through his fingers, a dark sensation that clouds all his thoughts. He is worried out of his damn mind when all he fucking needs right now is her where he can feel her, and touch her and see her, making sure she is all right. Images of him and her from the past few years rage through his mind.

And there, between wild heartbeats Bass somehow knows where she is. He turns around and heads north, towards the town wall and gate. He suddenly sees her again, on that day he had looked at her as she stood there when sunrise had brushed her face. It had been him and her on the road for weeks when they had finally reached Willoughby all the way from the hell that had been Vegas and where she had found him.

He had been sitting down on a log, unable to keep his eyes of her while he was cleaning his gun. Her stance strong and her eyes fixed on the small town in the distance. The dilapidated viaduct in the distance.

His boots hit the sand of the roads with a quick desperate eager to get to her pace.

* * *

He finds her crouched down, against the brick wall of one of the pillars of the flyover without use in this blackout word, high above her. She is hidden in the shadows, as there is just enough moonlight falling on her face to find her. Almost invisible, something that is so unlike Charlie.

A sigh of relieve escapes from his chest. That is until he sees the moonlight reflecting in the glass of the bottle in her hand and her knife close, _too close_ , to her other hand.

Panic fills his thoughts as he tells himself to calm the hell down. She does not even look up even when he is so damn sure she must have heard him. He slowly crouches down before her and flinches at the amount of hollow broken Charlie that is sitting in front of him. The low release of his breath is audible between them when his eyes move over her pale face.

'Charlie...' He swallows at the sound of his own voice. 'Hey...' He feels almost unable to move or talk, as so much of her pain is filling his damn chest as well. He swallow as he hears his own heartbeat like a steady and fast drum in his ears.

But then something happens, as he looks at her and sees her, _all of her,_ right before him. Her hollow misery. Her strength. Her loyalty. Her brokenness she shares with him and Miles without even knowing it herself. Her smirk, her beauty, her raw edges, her sarcasm and the fighter within her. All those pieces of her make him feel like someone he has not been to anyone for a very long time. And panic slowly moves out of his thoughts as he realizes what kind of man he can be for her. Here. Tonight.

'Baby, I am here...' his voice sounds hoarse but with a gentleness in it that reminds him of home. 'I'm here...' He moves closer to her, as he sits next to her, telling her he is here with his words.

Charlie hears the rough hoarseness in Bass' voice. His strength. His gentle blue eyes she can feel piercing through her grey place of misery. His amount of care. And her fingers relax just a little bit around the bottle in her hand.

'I don't understand, ' Her voice is broken and trembling, her bottom lip too. Endless tears are flowing over her cheeks as an absolute broken sadness fills her face and voice.

She had once felt the start of this wave so close on that day the war had ended almost two years ago. She had not been ready. And somehow today her mind and soul had decided that there was no going around this anymore.

'What are you talking about, Charlie?' He feels his heart break for her, as he just wants to rip her pain out and carry it for her.

She can feel his strength breaking through her loneliness, guilt and grieve. 'I don't understand why it's me. Why I am still here.'

Bass is not sure he can breathe anymore. Because these are his words. He is back home, back at the cemetery where it had been him and a bottle of whiskey and a damn gun in his hand. There, where Miles had found him when he had thought about ending it all sitting in front of four fresh graves. Hell, he knows. He knows how she feels. The guilt of being the one that still gets to wake up to see another day. But without them. He knows. About the pain. The loss. The abandonment.

And right the hell now, he also knows how Miles must have felt, when he sat down next to him that day. That night.

'They all left me, And I don't understand...' Charlie's voice is raspy. Tears are making it impossible to finish what she wants to say. She swallows as she tastes the salt of her own tears in the back of her throat. 'I don't understand why I am still here and they...'

Bass cannot control himself as his jaws lock with an almost impossible pressure as he yanks her in his arms. And there, with Charlotte right in his fucking arms he gives in to who he can be. He feels her pain, every single piece of it.

It is a part of him buried inside her pain. Inside her grief. He holds her, her body rocking in his arms.

'I know...' He is crying silently as he fucking hopes she does not notice as Charlie grabs his shirt under his leather jacket to find something to hold on to. 'I know baby...'

He is back at the point where he wished he had died with his mom and dad, and his beautiful little sisters. He knows. _Fuck._ He really does. He remembers that day, with Miles. And he knows, he knows so god damn well, that whatever he say will to her now will stay with her for the rest of her damn life.

'I am so sorry, Charlotte. I am so sorry for everything. For every fucking day Miles and I were not there. I know it is unfair baby...but you can't leave us...Miles...staypuft, Connor...we...hell, ...we need you. We cannot do this without you. '

Charlie sobs diminish with the hoarse warmth in his voice. Bass feels tension running through his muscles as he cannot hold back anymore. 'I need you.' He swallows. 'You mean so much to me, Charlie.'

It is the raw honesty in his words that touch the edge of her heart. She slowly looks up at him as her tear filled eyes find his. She looks up and for the very first time, it is Bass, and all of him, right before her. All of him. Open, raw, before her. Charlie looks at him, as she is unable to do anything else .

'You make me feel like no one else can, Bass.'

She watches how he has to look away from her as his deep blue eyes overflow with tears. But then, finally, after what feels like forever he looks at her. And he knows. He feels every piece of love in her words.

He readjusts her in his arms so she can lean against him as she feels what she has to feel as he completely covers her with his arms. He leans against the wall behind them and keeps her close in the dark.

Charlie moves closer into the warmth and certainty of his embrace. Her head moves into the hollow inviting warmth of his neck as his strong jaw line rests against her temple and she can hear Bass breathe.

Bass holds her, and with his right hand he slowly moves the bottle and the knife away from her. She does not need them anymore. He is here now.

They sit like that until the sun comes up. And with the first light of dawn he kisses her gently with his warm lips on hers, a long slow kiss that is filled with a promise. His arms are encircling her. The palm of her hand is warm against his chest, tucked under his jacket as the other one is wrapped around his arm.

Bass slowly kisses her temple as his nose brushes her hair. His heart swells with her close as he feels how Charlie takes in his scent as her nose is buried in his neck.

'I am taking you home.' His voice is hoarse. The light of the sunrise meets her eyes and he looks at her while her eyes tell him she wants to go home. He, he is home. They slowly get up and walk back to Willoughby. His arm is never far, strongly around her shoulders as she feels the leather of his jacket touching hers. Charlie feels a slow almost peaceful exhaustion fall over her as her legs feel they are going to give out even on the short walk back.

Bass feels her stumble and puts a strong arm behind her back. His other arm moves under her knees as he takes her in his arms and moves her against his chest.

Maybe on any other day she would have grumbled something insulting. Maybe on another day he would have snarled something back about her stubbornness. But not today. Today he just pulls her close. She does not protest as her eyes tell him a story about gratitude for the man that caries her home. For the man that will always carry her home.

He carries her home. And he remembers that day, where he had carried her away from those assholes in that bar who had dared to touch her. She had been like this, against his chest. Her eyes closed and his mind filled with worry as rain had started to fall with thunder in the distance at the start of a long night.

But today, today that night had moved into new pale light of a new day. And her eyes are open, looking for his as she slowly breathes and feels the steady wide strength and warmth of his chest as she lets her head fall against his shoulder with trust in her eyes. Trust and care and so much more for him.

He will carry her home.

And Connor will be there, right before his house, waiting in front of his porch. His son, his kid. His blood. And they will share a look between father and son. A look of understanding, a look filled by how much they care about her, about Charlie. A look filled with understanding how much she is his and belongs to him.

And Miles will be there, his eyes filled with gratitude for a brother for bringing their girl back as he will stand not far from Connor with his hand on the hilt of his sword as he will lock eyes with Bass with tears in his eyes. He will walk to the both of them. He will caress Charlie's face with long gentle fingers in Bass' arms. And they will share a look filled with their bond, their love. A look between brothers. A look filled with understanding of how much they care about her and that there is absolutely nothing they won't do for her. They would go to hell and back for this woman.

And Aaron will be there too. When Bass is close to the porch steps, Aaron will wrap a blanket around Charlie. And they will share a look of understanding and respect. A look filled with a starting friendship. A look filled with knowing they were once on the other side within the same one story, but that friendships can grow and that they will keep her safe and loved.

And Charlie, she will fall asleep against Bass' chest and his scent close on the couch of his living room. She will fall asleep with him muttering comfort in her ear with his low voice. She will fall asleep to the sounds of their soft voices, knowing they are all there. Miles, Connor, Aaron. Her men. Her family. Her home.

She will fall asleep, knowing she is not alone. Knowing she felt raging despair and grieve. Knowing she made it through. Knowing she belongs somewhere. And she will think of that one woman in that one bar, Vicky. She will think about how she gave her that final push to return to all of them and fight for her own choices. She will make it. Because of all of them. And they all will be there, all the people that walked her road with her. Her dad, Maggie. Danny. Nora. She will keep them close and learn to live with them so close as impossible pain will turn into loving strong memories. She will make it with all of them.

She will make it. Because of the man that holds her and will hold her while she sleeps. She knows he knows. He feels it, that aching start of love in his bones. And she knows he will never leave her. She will fall asleep, knowing they will all be there when she wakes up. He will be there when she wakes up. Bass.

She will wake up later that day to low gentle manly voices, on a soft couch in his living room when the late afternoon light brushes her face. And they will share one look. Her and Bass. A look of knowing they have started something new. A look filled with knowing they have been many things. But now, they are together. One look. Them.

But first, Bass will carry her home with the scent of the first morning sun in her hair as Charlie feels the certain pace of his boots under her as he carries her. He carries her home, as the first bright light of a new sunrise touches her face.

 **The End**

* * *

 **Author's Note This last scene was that scene where the whole story was flowing towards. This story was a very personal to write. A story about how life cannot be easy on some very long days, but there are always people and truths that can help you through, even on those darkest days. I loved writing Aaron, Miles and Connor, Charlie and Bass in this story, I have spend many hours behind my laptop with coffee writing this one and I enjoyed it, so very much. A thank you, to all of you, for all your support and inspiration. I l love knowing you are all here. Wishing you Love, Love from Love**


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